


Hesitant

by buzzkill_greaser



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Slight swearing, but nobody under the age of 13-ish should have read/watched this book/movie yet so it's okay, ech tags, i tried to make this close to canon did it work, pony has no idea what he's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7655161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzkill_greaser/pseuds/buzzkill_greaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Johnny stops being so damn shy all the time and says something that he may or may not regret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hesitant

**Author's Note:**

> hey jsyk this is real old, but you can still read it ofc just don't take this as an accurate example of my writing

"I... really?" Ponyboy stuttered out, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up from his place near the fire. Johnny sat beside him, hugging his legs and not leaning against the abandoned furniture that he would have otherwise been laying against. The small boy nodded and his ears darkened a shade redder, to accompany his face, which was painted with a deep blush. He was shaking slightly, and Pony noticed this, putting a hand to his friend's shoulder, making the black-haired boy jump. Pony pulled his hand away in response, motioning for his friend to calm down. Johnny glared back, sighing.

"Y-You'd be shakin' just the same if you were me!" He whispered harshly, starting to rock back and forth slightly. Pony nodded, sighing a bit.

"That's... yeah, that's true." The fourteen-year-old blushed slightly and laid back against the broken furniture once again, closing his eyes and taking a drag from his cigarette. Johnny looked slightly shocked, then angered, and turned to face Pony, crossing his arms and huffing. "Well?" He demanded that his friend pay attention to him, of course, but Pony only opened his eyes, looked at Johnny blankly, and shrugged. The sixteen-year-old grunted slightly and turned back towards the fire.

"I mean, I'd probably just tell him, but you're not me, so..." Ponyboy offered, soon regretting doing such, due to not having too much of an idea in the first place.

"Yeah. Thanks." Johnny rolled his eyes, sighed, and awkwardly lit a cigarette, taking a smoke from it in his insecure, hunched-over position to look at the fire for the rest of the night. Eventually, Pony got up to head back to his house, saying his quiet goodbyes and leaving Johnny to think everything over on his own.

 _Maybe I could just tell him. If he slugs me, he slugs me. I've been hit a lot before, it's fine._ The dark-haired boy trembled, the dim cigarette's smoke shaking erratically as he did. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, biting down on the cigarette.

 _I... no, I ain't takin' getting hit no more. I won't... I ain't gonna stand for it._ Johnny knew that he probably wouldn't carry that promise through, but for the time being, he was swearing - half-heartedly - on his life that he'd stand up for himself that cold Tusla night on to his deathbed. After a few minutes of mulling the scenario over, time and time again, a different outcome each time, the dark-haired boy tossed his cigarette into the fire, with a tone of determination, and walked off into the night to meet up with a good friend.

Not... not before putting out that little campfire. We don't want to die, now.

* * *

 

Loud, obnoxious music and lights more colourful than some corny newspaper ad; that described Buck Merril's place on most nights. It was something of a... cheaper, less dangerous (to an extent) version of the Dingo, the go-to greaser bar on that side of the town.

Johnny was belittled by the taller men and women that populated the building, even if the age difference that separated them was quite small. Johnny had always been self-conscious about how young he looked, and these people didn't help his situation. But he had to tough it out and get someone's attention from the outside.

He took a deep breath, and gingerly knocked on the door, pulling his arm back after only two. Of course, nobody heard, and the dark-haired boy huffed, tapping his foot impatiently and anxiously. Summoning the little strength that remained in him, Johnny beat on the door once again, loud enough that someone would open the door and nearly blind the poor boy with the lights that he had forgotten to brace himself for.

"W-What do you want, kid...?" Buck slurred out, clearly drunker than considered okay, letting the doorway support him as he absentmindedly spun a bottle around on his finger, nearly dropping it several times.

"I- uh... I n-need to see D-Dal..." Johnny had always been intimidated by these kind of people, since he had experienced several terrible encounters with the drunken. Shaking slightly, the black-haired boy shuffled his feet anxiously as Buck groaned and rolled his eyes.

"He's sleepin'..." Buck grumbled out, closing the door halfway before the sixteen-year-old outside stopped it from reaching the doorframe, whimpering out desperately.

"J-Just tell him it's Johnny!" His voice cracked in several places, and Buck cocked an eyebrow, laughing a bit, angering the dark-haired boy to a near-contemptuous level. He sighed before speaking again, "Just tell him it's Johnny, okay? He'll come."

Buck rolled his eyes again and made a nodding motion along with his hand as he slowly closed the door. Johnny bit his lip and tapped his foot, anxious and somewhat scared. He was going slightly pale and he put his hands in his pockets just so he could grab onto something and claw into it.

After what seemed to be an hour, - although it was around thirty seconds - the door opened up once again, and a tall, imposing figure stood in the door that made Johnny shake and blush at the same time.

"What do you want, kid?" Dallas yawned, his hands gripping the top of the doorframe as he leant out. He was wearing a shirt, which was something Johnny was thankful for, and by the looks of his hair, he had been sleeping pretty well, given the circumstances.

"I, uh, I wanted to talk... with you..." Johnny was breathing quickly and starting to sweat, fearing that Dallas would pick up on his panicked state. On the other side of the situation, though, Dally was tired and drowsy, still blinking his eyes open and yawning slightly. "What was that?" The blonde spoke, earning a slight shocked whimper from Johnny, his fear starting to take him over. He inhaled sharply, squeezed his eyes shut, and grabbed Dally's hand, dragging him outside of the doorway as the door closed behind him, and a sudden shock hit Dallas, his ice blue eyes widening as he pulled his hand away from the other boy's grip.

"What the hell, you dumb-" The seventeen-year-old turned around and fumbled with the cold door handle of Buck's house, the door stubbornly refusing to open. He ran his hands through his hair and snarled, turning back towards Johnny and clenching his fists. The dark-haired boy's glistening black eyes widened and he braced himself, sighing. Dallas was almost about to do something negatively drastic, when he snapped back into reality and dropped his hands to his sides.

Johnny was shaking profusely, and Dally thought he could hear sobs. The blonde stopped, his eyes wide, when suddenly his mouth fell open in shock, and he immediately crouched down to wrap his arms around the smaller boy, hearing his quiet sobs deflate into silence.

They just sat there for a bit, silent and comfortable, when Johnny started to speak, and Dally was pulled out of the quiet moment. He pulled away from the embrace quickly and stood up, his eyes wide and mouth frozen in something of a confused snarl. He cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly, looking down while blushing heavily and shuffling his feet.

"Uh... what... what did you wanna talk with me about?" Dally managed to ask, at least able to keep his voice from breaking. Johnny looked up and stood, blushing heavily as his eyes darted around, looking to see if anyone was near. "I... uh, I wanted to... I wanted t-to tell you something, I-I guess..." The dark-eyed boy responded, his voice slightly hoarse and quiet. Dally nodded, still refusing to look up, biting lightly into his lip, attempting to make his blush dissipate, but to no avail. Johnny coughed a bit, kicking the ground as he attempted to muster up the courage to speak again.

"I-" The sixteen-year-old's voice cracked at the one word, and he immediately thought to himself; _You can't do this, this is stupid, this is such a goddamn stupid plan, Jesus Christ..._

"I love you, Dal, okay?" Johnny was holding back tears at this point, "I-I love you!" The boy was about to retreat and dash off, like a hurt and scared animal, when someone grabbed him by the collar of his denim jacket. He froze, letting himself be dragged back to the spot of his confession. He heard a low, growly laughter, and braced himself for a deadly beating.

Instead, he felt arms around his waist, and warm breath on his face. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw none other than Dally, staring at him with his eyes half-lidded, and a sly grin on his face. Johnny blushed, his eyes going wide, trembling with shock.

"Well, shit, kid, that was pretty damn obvious." The blonde whispered, before pressing his rough lips to Johnny's cut and bruised ones, making the other boy melt in his arms, managing to wrap his arms around Dally's neck to keep himself from sinking to his knees, the taller male continuing to hold on to Johnny's waist.

The blonde started to run his teeth over the smaller boy's lower lip, making the dark-haired boy flinch slightly, but soon opening his mouth shakily, letting Dallas slip his tongue inside with a smirk. He pulled away after a while of running his tongue along Johnny's, and he took a second to breathe before pushing the other boy's hair out of his face.

"Never could keep that hair back, huh?" Dallas husked out as Johnny laughed quietly, before Dallas kissed him again, this time, softer and less hungrily, holding the smaller boy close, before he pulled away slowly, and the black-haired boy noticed that the cold, piercing tint that once rested in the taller male's eyes had subsided.

"I... uh..." The blonde coughed lightly and then attempted speaking again, "I... I love you... too, Johnnycake." He managed to whisper, making Johnny blush, and then smile as happily as he could, nuzzling his face into Dally's neck, the taller boy smirking and running his fingers through the other boy's messy, greasy black hair.

At that moment, Johnny forgot the fears that he had suffered at that dreadful place he resented calling "home", the beatings he had toughed through, the confidence that had been drained from him, and the glint of brass rings that rested on the hands of a boy who had far too much alcohol and far too much time.

Because, now, he felt safe. In the arms of this aloof, tough, cold teen, who happily acknowledged he was a menace to society, he felt comfort.

Because in the arms of this teen, who most would label a JD, a hood, and something along the lines of "white trash with long, greasy hair", Johnny Cade finally felt like he was at home.

**Author's Note:**

> i am relatively proud of this


End file.
